There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 43

Autumn was determined to squash what little warmth summer had left. In Rodinia, where storms raged every few days, there was a growing sense that the cold would arrive as early as the heat had receded.

Having set down Baron Zimmerman’s letter, Edwin turned his head calmly to gaze at the rain pouring outside the window. Vivianne’s diligent efforts paid off. After frequently intercepting Charlotte, the baron had written to say that Charlotte had “responded to his feelings” and wished to prepare for marriage, if she consented.

Baron Zimmerman pleaded that even if her feelings had changed, he would not demand a dowry or cling to the additional opportunities once offered—he only asked for permission to marry her. He professed undying love, swearing that Charlotte’s name was etched into his soul, and vowed to cherish her until death.

Edwin didn’t know what Vivianne had instructed Charlotte to do, but given how well-read she was, particularly in romance novels like Emily in Francis’s Fiefdom, it was safe to assume she had guided the romantic letters effortlessly.

Edwin had never expected the baron to fall so deeply for a fabricated romance letter that he’d stake his life on it. Still, since it posed no harm to Charlotte, Edwin decided to set aside his disappointment in the baron.

Roarke entered the room and stood in front of the unlit fireplace, facing a coffee table cluttered with documents. Edwin gestured with his coffee cup, indicating that Roarke should read the papers. Roarke took a seat and began examining them carefully. Edwin, having emptied his cup, stepped behind the sofa where Roarke was seated.

“How are things going on Corbin’s side?” Edwin’s voice cut through the silence.

The question caught Roarke off guard, as he hadn’t heard Edwin approach. Unfazed, Roarke put down the document.

“There are no significant movements. Corbin doesn’t seem to have any hidden motives. He’s genuinely aiming for reform, so he won’t make any rash moves.”

“Keep following him just in case. If he has any other intentions, we need to take care of it as quickly as possible.”

“By the way, Corbin seems to be looking for someone.”

“Someone? Who?”

“He’s been sending letters to the South repeatedly. He calls them a friend, but it appears the person he’s looking for is closely connected to the Bannister Royal Family. I don’t have any further details yet. Should I look into it?”

Edwin turned and leaned against the sofa. Roarke, watching Edwin’s back as he fell into deep thought, shifted his gaze back to the documents and continued sorting through them.

“Find out who Corbin is looking for.”

“Yes.” 

“Have you reviewed the guest list for the upcoming royal event?”

“Yes. Wellwood is on the attendance list as well.”

“I see.”

“However, it seems that the Queen… is returning a day early, though I’m not sure if it’s because of her hobby.”

Even in Preston, the rumors about the Queen of Neway were exceptionally well-known. Particularly in the highly conservative Preston, she was condemned for her perverse tastes and scorned as a vulgar whore. By extension, the citizens of Neway were labeled as descendants of beasts who had abandoned even human dignity.

The time when the Count of Wellwood—the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Preston, who had played a key role in negotiating the peace treaty between Neway and Preston—had openly mocked the royal couple of Neway at a banquet was still talked about among the aristocracy.

“And recently, Miss Aveline visited me, asking about you, Your Grace.”

There was an unusual awkwardness in Roarke’s voice as he mentioned Aveline, a name he rarely brought up.

“Aveline?” 

“It wasn’t anything particularly significant. She asked why you haven’t married yet.”

 “Married?” 

“Yes.”

It was funny that she had gone to see Roarke first, only to ask him why he wasn’t married. For someone who had devoured Emily in Francis’s Fiefdom with such intensity and played the role of love’s messenger between Charlotte and Baron Zimmerman, her question felt absurdly trivial.

“So, what did you say?” Edwin pressed.

Viviane Aveline, who didn’t exactly feel comfortable around Roarke, must have hesitated endlessly—to ask or not to ask. Yet, in the end, she must have been unable to contain her curiosity.

Imagining Aveline’s expression—so sentimental that she had gone out of her way to find Roarke—Edwin couldn’t help but laugh. Viviane must have been fidgeting, though not biting her nails. Instead, her large gray pupils would have darted back and forth, and the corners of her lips would have trembled.

The sound of Edwin’s laughter filled the air, making Roarke turn to look at him. 

Edwin, still laughing heartily while pressing a hand to his forehead, left Roarke bewildered. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he had seen something wrong. But no—he hadn’t imagined it. Confirming this, Roarke averted his gaze just as Edwin lightly punched his arm. Roarke rocked back like a tumbling doll, rubbing his shoulder to ease the dull ache.

“So, what did you say?”

“Well… I just said I didn’t know.”

“Yeah? And then?”

“She didn’t say much.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“She just said, ‘I see.’”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

Edwin clicked his tongue in disappointment and leaned back against the sofa, picturing Viviane. He found her constant, huffing anger rather endearing. Even if her temper was eerily similar to her father’s, it was nothing more than a little tiger cub baring its teeth—far from threatening.

If anything, it only made her seem pitiful and weak, enough that he almost wanted to teach her how to truly strike fear into someone.

But Vivianne didn’t know that, which was why she kept getting angry. And because she didn’t know, he found himself wanting to provoke her even more.

At first, it had been an impulse. Now, it had become routine. The desire to touch Vivianne—to reach out to her—had completely taken hold of him. Maybe it was because of the hallucination he had recalled not long ago. But then again… it felt like this desire had been there much earlier, long before that moment.

So when had it started?

Edwin closed his eyes, slowly tracing his history with Vivianne.

The moment when he had firmly believed it wasn’t the case—how laughable that seemed now. Why had he even cared to verify Theo Evans’s words? When had he first felt the need to tug at the scarf hiding the bruise on her throat?

Or was it when he caught Vivianne’s deep scent on that scarf?

If it wasn’t any of those moments, then perhaps…

From the very beginning.

The moment they reunited after fourteen years.

When she mistook him for someone else, and spoke with polite humility.

From that point on, leading all the way to this very moment.

Having traced the past to today, Edwin slowly opened his eyes.

From the moment Edwin met the scrawny, unimpressive Vivianne Aveline, she had already been his.

Theo Evans wasn’t wrong. There was no real difference between him and the beasts of the auction house he had once mocked. He wanted to devour every part of her—to swallow her whole—until even the tiniest strand of her hair was marked with his name.

But the thought of wanting her was where it stopped. She wasn’t someone he particularly felt the urge to possess. Even without trying, she was already his. If he took her by force, all that would remain would be an empty, trivial feeling.

There was no reason to leave behind more traces of a woman he was supposed to kill.

────── ✾ ──────

The morning air as they prepared to leave Rodinia was crisp and light. The faint chill in the breeze signaled the end of summer, yet the sun shone as bright and beautiful as ever.

Standing in front of the mirror, Vivianne smoothed out the pleats of her dress, her face a mixture of unease and tension.

“I’ve decided to take you with me to the royal event.

 We’ll leave early and stay in Rottermond for five days, then head to the capital for about a month. It’ll be a long journey.”

Her opinion had never been considered in his decision. That was the second reason she resented his thoughtless declaration.

There was already enough gossip surrounding her; there was no need to throw more fuel onto the fire. That was the first reason she had argued against going. Simply being seen with Edwin would be enough to feed those addicted to scandal.

“Charlotte will be coming as well.”

The only reason she changed her mind was that they wouldn’t be alone.

Still, it wasn’t about Edwin. What made the situation unbearable was attending a royal event where she would have to face his adoptive mother as the mastermind behind the destruction of Edwin’s family.

Vivianne’s steps halted as she was about to descend the stairs.

She lacked the courage to step willingly into this chain of events. Just as she turned to retreat, she came face-to-face with Charlotte, who wore the hat Vivianne had gifted her.

“Where are you going?”

Vivianne froze, then casually turned back as if nothing had happened.

“Oh, nowhere. It’s nothing. By the way… you’re wearing the hat. It looks really pretty on you. It suits you well.”

Though the courage to leave hadn’t fully returned, she knew it was something she had to do. She wondered why she had tried to run away when she knew there was no escape.

“Thank you.” 

Charlotte, blushing, gently adjusted the hat and expressed her gratitude shyly.

“It’ll be a long journey. Rottermond may look close on the map, but it’s farther than it seems. I’ve never traveled from Rodinia to Rottermond before, but I know it won’t be an easy trip.”

“Our bottoms will suffer a lot,” Vivianne whispered, making Charlotte giggle.

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Edwin, Roarke, and the butler, Abernathy, had appeared as well.

At the sound of their footsteps, both women turned their gazes in the same direction.

Without the slightest hesitation, Edwin walked straight toward Vivianne. Charlotte, following his movement, found her gaze landing on Vivianne, who had turned her head away.

When Edwin descended into the lobby, the two women and the servants did not forget to show their respect to the master of the manor.

He passed by them without a word and took the lead.

Upon stepping outside, the first thing that caught the eye was the long line of carriages waiting in formation. Moving forward, Edwin stepped aside as the carriage door opened, allowing the two women to board first. He extended his hand to assist them, displaying the courtesy of a gentleman.

Vivianne, suddenly faced with the need to take Edwin’s hand, hesitated as she looked down at his outstretched palm. However, she couldn’t afford to waste time and reluctantly placed her hand in his.

Once inside, she quickly claimed the seat by the window.

Charlotte, who entered right after her, sat beside her and was about to suggest that Vivianne take the opposite seat. She hadn’t mentally prepared herself to spend a long journey with Edwin sitting right in front of her.

But before she could act, Edwin had already taken the window seat across from them, marking the beginning of an uncomfortable trip.

“Your Grace, this is the new hat Miss Aveline gifted me. How does it look? Do you think it suits me?”

Charlotte had once been as lively as a songbird, chattering nonstop—at least until she and Edwin clashed over the subject of marriage. Fortunately, the previous encounter had dampened her spirit enough that she had no thought of rebelling now, so she kept speaking to Edwin as she always had.

Vivianne, already feeling uncomfortable under Edwin’s direct gaze, was relieved when Charlotte drew his attention elsewhere.

“Is this the hat you bought with the money you earned from embroidery?”

Edwin’s eyes briefly followed the curve of the decorated feathers before looking back at Vivianne.

Charlotte had been the one asking about the hat, yet it was Vivianne who had captured his attention.

“… Yes.”

Vivianne, feeling embarrassed, responded softly.

Even Charlotte, realizing the odd shift in focus, awkwardly adjusted her hat.

Edwin’s expression remained indifferent as he turned his attention back to Charlotte.

“Well, I don’t know. Does it really suit you?”

His reply was ambiguous, but his gaze lingered on the hat with unyielding intensity.

“Charlotte. Sell me that hat.”

His sudden remark caught both women off guard.

For both the giver and the receiver of the gift, the suggestion was far from welcome.

Charlotte cast a hesitant glance at Vivianne.

And Vivianne, looking stunned, pressed her lips together, her expression far from affectionate.

But the way Edwin was looking at the hat—something about it felt unfamiliar, strangely tender. It was the look of someone who genuinely wanted to own it.

“I’ll pay you properly.”

Vivianne exhaled deeply, turning her head toward the window.

Charlotte, visibly conflicted, glanced between the two of them.

It was going to be a long journey.